


take it out on me

by the area from alien 51 (ricecrispbees)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Masturbation, No beta we fall like Crowley, Other, Rough Sex, Semi Voyeurism, Sexual Fantasy, Weird Angel Biology, she/her for uriel, they/them for michael, yall know the drill by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 00:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21437047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricecrispbees/pseuds/the%20area%20from%20alien%2051
Summary: in which uriel discovers the concept of rough sex and realizes “oh fuck, I’m into that."
Relationships: Michael/Uriel (Good Omens)
Kudos: 27
Collections: Fuck Yeah Gabriel (and Heaven's Angels) Good Omens





	take it out on me

**Author's Note:**

> I have no shame  
someone had to write them fucking so I’m taking one for the team ✌️😗 back to ur schedularly reguled content soon enough I promise
> 
> my goal is to singlehandedly become the main provider of gayngels content as soon as i kick my executive dysfunction in the dong

Uriel had a bit of a problem.

It wasn’t anything terribly serious, but it wasn’t minor, either. She was easily one of the happiest entities in Heaven, what with the fact that she’d earned the position of the Archangel Michael’s beloved angel, and what they had left nothing to be desired. Almost, anyway. Lately—as in, over the course of the past several decades—Uriel had begun to find herself wanting _ more _ lately. Not a different partner, or an illicit affair, per se, just...well. _ More _ in the carnal relations department, as it were, something Uriel wanted badly but was fairly certain Michael wouldn’t be able to give.

They had done _it_ before, of course. It was a rare event in and of itself, the act of them making love, but it wasn’t like the pair didn’t enjoy it. Michael in particular was extra calm and cuddly post coitus, and the other was far from lacking in complaints on that. Overall they had a tendency to spoil Uriel with kisses when the pair was in private, and employed a litany of pet names for her. Most notably of all, though, was that when they had sex it was always slow, gentle, with plenty of focus on her pleasure and making her dizzy with love for the other Archangel over and over and over again. Uriel was grateful for this, and she adored all the sweetness that fueled their beloved’s actions, but…

This was the opposite of how she wanted them to fuck her lately.

It was something like a punch to the gut when Uriel first realized it. She loved Michael dearly and knew that they loved her back just as strongly, so it almost felt selfish to ask anything more of them than what they already gave her. But once she realized she wanted it, wanted Michael to take her without an ounce of the love or care they normally showed, it was near impossible to get the thought out of her head. The desires would usually start small. Michael might come to her looking weary or frustrated, wanting their beloved to brush out their hair and let them vent, and Uriel would comply while silently wishing she were helping burn off steam another way. Her mind would wander as she worked on Michael’s hair, going in all manners of perverted directions until the other angel would interrupt. “Dear, please be gentle. You’re pulling a bit hard.”

Uriel would then apologize and wonder how it would feel if, were she to grow it out to such a length, Michael were to pull her hair.

The little things like that built up over time: Michael practically steaming with anger after a particularly rough meeting, chewing the end of their pen while filling out tedious paperwork, slamming doors or their fist against a table when things got really out of hand in an argument with Gabriel. Uriel did feel a tad guilty about her first thought being “wow, they’re _ hot _” every time she saw the Archangel get angry, but eventually she’d just stopped giving a shit. It wasn’t like anyone else was going to find out. And as for her desire to act on it, to let Michael use her as an outlet for their anger, the way she handled it was...well. It technically wasn’t allowed, for a start, but then it’s not against the rules if no one else finds out.

Right?

Uriel drew in a sharp gasp, slowly running the pad of her thumb up and down against her perineum. Normally, she didn’t like to use a cock for sexual acts when the occasion presented itself, but self-pleasure was a different matter entirely. With a vulva, she found it rather difficult to get herself off, and in fact often found herself craving Michael’s touch even _ more _ with one between her legs, and so decided that when dealing with her fantasies in private she’d use the binary opposite to get the job done. It was easier that way; the mess could simply be cleared with a snap and there wouldn’t be a strange after-burn between her legs with this configuration. Currently she had one foot propped up against her workspace, the opposite hand in her lap and stroking herself off as she imagined Michael manhandling her against the very desk in front of her.

“Uri,” The use of the nickname in this fantasy, where Michael’s voice was deep and husky with want and their crotch pressed snugly against Uriel’s ass, made her almost cum on the spot. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this, how badly I’ve wanted to bend you over this desk and fuck you until I’m all you can think about.”

The thought of fucking on her work desk, still up in Heaven, with the ever-looming risk of being walked in on dangling above them at all times was both terrifying and so arousing it made the angel’s legs go weak. Uriel tightened her hand around the top half of her cock and bucked up into it, smearing clear pre-come all about the inside of her hand and onto her length.

“Please…” Uriel, playing the role of the shy, blushing virgin in this little game, looked over her shoulder at them with wide brown eyes. “Please, Michael, be careful. What if someone walked in just now?” She shuddered, both in her mind and in real life. “Oh, what would the other archangels think? We’d be in so much trouble!”

“I don’t care about them.” One of Michael’s hands reached around and grabbed the other’s breast. They always did like playing with those. Uriel moaned softly. “If we get caught, so what? Let them watch, sunflower. Let them see how much I love you, how much I _ own _ you, pretty girl.”

And then Michael would fuck her over the desk, bury their cock in her all the way to the hilt and have her screaming their name over and over and over again, and then— and then—

With a cut-off cry of pleasure, Uriel spilled her release all over her hand, shuddering and curling into herself as pearl-white ropes of cum stained her trousers and seat. With a snap of her fingers, it was all gone, and she tucked herself away before leaning back in her chair to bask in the post-orgasmic glow.

“Good lord…” She murmured to herself, “I really need to stop doing this.”

But she didn’t.

She wouldn’t stop for quite a long time, in fact. Over the years, the need to jack off became more and more frequent. It started as only every five years, then every three, then once a year, twice a year, once a month, twice a month...and oh, by the once-a-week mark, Uriel was certain there was something horribly wrong with her. 

‘Fuck, fuck, _ fuck _!’ She bit down on her bottom lip hard, leaning back against the door to the storage closet and holding it shut. Fresh in her mind was the latest fantasy of the year, in which Michael had her in this very closet and forced her onto her knees to take their cock down her throat again and again and again. Cum splattered against the floor and with a thought it was gone not even a second later.

‘God, I’m fucking disgusting.’ Uriel thought with a grimace, doing away with her Effort and straightening herself out. ‘What would Michael think if she knew I was doing this? I’m an awful lover.’

Head hanging in shame, she exited the closet only to catch Gabriel right as he was walking past. Just her luck, really.

“Uriel!” He greeted with that stupid puppy-dog grin of his. “What are you doing in there? There’s a closet on our floor, you know that right?”

Uriel did not know how to tell him that Michael fucking her in the storage closet on the floor above the basement was what she’d just been jacking it to not a second earlier, and simply shrugged. 

“Was down here for some business. Figured I’d drop in and grab something, but forgot what I needed.” She said indifferently. Sometimes it scared her how easy it was to lie.

“Ah. I hate when that happens.” Gabriel gave her an understanding nod. “How’s Michael? You two seem to be doing well lately.”

Good Lord, how that question made Uriel suddenly want to strangle him. He really seemed to have a talent for bringing shit up at the worst possible times, didn’t he?

“Same as last time you asked a decade ago,” She said with the same indifference, “And the one before that, and the one before that.”

“Well. That’s always good, though, right?” Gabe smiles again. “You’re such a happy couple. It’s heartwarming, really. Just wanted to make sure there wasn’t any trouble in paradise, that’s all.”

‘Buddy, you don’t even know the half of it.’ Uriel held back an eye roll. “We’re fine. Don’t be such a worry-wart. Besides, haven’t you got work to do right about now?”

“Hah! When do we _ not _have some kind of work to do, Uriel?” He teased. “I’ll see you around, then.”

“Mmhm.” Uriel watched him go with an internal sigh of relief. Fucking _ finally_. “See you.”

As soon as he was sufficiently out of her sights, she retreated back into the closet for a tiny internal freak-out before exiting for real this time and getting back to work.

'I seriously cannot keep going on like this,' Uriel thought, sitting at her desk again with her head down miserably. 'What kind of angel does that sort of thing, getting off to lecherous thoughts in the middle of their office building? God, I'm truly awful, aren't I...'

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door to her office.

"Uriel?" Called Michael from the other side of the door. "Are you here?"

"Come in," The other angel blurted. Oh, _shit_, of all the angels who could have come by right then...

"Hey, sunflower," Michael slipped into the room, immediately closing the door behind them. Uriel noted immediately that their hands were empty, which meant they didn't have anything to bring by for her to review, which meant that whatever brought them here probably wasn't work-related. They paused, looking the other angel over briefly. "Goodness, you look miserable. Did something happen?"

"Just tired, that's all," Uriel replied, leaning back in her office chair. "Sometimes it just feels like the days are getting longer and longer."

"Boy, don't I know it," The other angel sat themselves on the side of her desk, raising an eyebrow. "Are you _sure_ you're alright though? I don't quite buy the idea that you're 'just tired'." They leaned forward just a bit, cupping the other's chin. "Is there something you need, princess? All you have to do is ask me."

Oh, _god,_ there was that voice Michael used when they lightly scolded her over misplaced paperwork or being a bit too noisy when they went down on her or whenever she was just a bit too needy and whiny for whatever reason. Uriel _loved_ that voice and the fire it sparked in her gut.

_'Fuck me!'_ Uriel had to use every ounce of restraint she had to keep from shouting it out, _'Take me over this desk, and over your desk, and on every fucking surface in this office building just so you can show the rest of Heaven I'm yours, yours, yours...'_

"Well..." Uriel said instead, scooting back in her chair to make a bit more room for another body, "I think I'd like to hold you right about now..." She couldn't help the shyness to her voice. Michael simply pulled it out of her without even trying sometimes. They smiled at her fondly.

"Aw, is that it?" Michael sighed and sat across her lap, kicking one leg over the armrest of the chair. "You're so needy sometimes, Uri."

"Hush." Uriel hugged them close to her chest, grateful to finally have some time alone together. "As if you could _ever_ complain about me wanting to love on you."

"That may or may not be why I'm here in the first place." Michael hummed, running their fingers through Uriel's hair. They'd been keeping their nails long as of late, manicured a modest shade of beige that matched their overall aesthetic perfectly. Uriel had no complaints about this, especially with the way they massaged her scalp without even meaning to. "You really like when I do this, huh?"

Their lover protested with a weak "no", but the look of bliss on her face betrayed her.

"Liar," Teased Michael, "You know lying is a sin, princess."

So was jerking off in a storage closet, Uriel thought, but seeing as she wasn't currently neck-deep in sulfur for it she didn't exactly see the problem with a white lie now and again too.

"Whatever," She put on an expression of mock indifference and snuggled up to Michael's chest again. "What have you been up to today?"

"Oh, you're going to _love_ this," Michael began in a tone indicating that no, Uriel was not going to love this and would probably have to throttle some other angel for making them mad in a moment. "Sandalphon had some strong words for me this morning."

Uriel cringed. She knew from a number of heated arguments and rants between her lover and the other Archangel that they didn't exactly have the greatest relationship. "And those were?" She asked, rubbing soothing circles into the other's shoulders.

"Oh, standard stuff. You did this wrong, marked Underling XYZ's papers wrong and now there's a problem in some department or another running it...just, irritating shit." Their muscles were tense under the layers of skin and clothing and the other angel could feel it, feel the tension physically manifesting in their body and turning their mood sour. "You know, I don't like saying such things aloud, but...I _really_ don't like him that much, Uriel."

"I know you don't, honey."

"Why did Gabriel ever promote him to Archangel to begin with?! _I _could very easily smite the way he does in half the time!" 

"You most certainly could." Uriel affirmed. They were still toying with her hair, gently raking their nails against her scalp, and by god did it feel _delightful_. "You sound awfully mad right about now, my love."

"I _am_ mad!" Michael groaned in frustration before looking more apologetic. "I'm sorry, Uri. I try not to be so bitter when we're alone like this." They ran their thumb along one of the patches of gold on the other's cheekbone, admiring the break in the skin where her angelic essence forced its way through her corporeal form.

"'S okay," The other leaned into the touch with a lazy smile. "You could be mad any day of the month 'n I wouldn't love you any less."

"That's good to hear." Michael resumed stroking the other's hair with a kiss. "You're so good to me. My sunflower, my favorite angel, my beloved..."

Uriel nearly choked when the onslaught of soft pet names made her remember the way Michael treated her in her fantasies. She could almost _feel_ the press of their Effort against her, their voice whispering teases and nicknames in her ear; 'filthy', 'debauched', 'cumslut', '_mine_'. 

"Are you alright?" Michael stopped their ministrations and asked with wide eyes.

"Um." Uriel felt her face go hot. "Well. You just seem _very_ stressed out, that's all."

The other angel raised an eyebrow. "And what does that have to do with anything?" They questioned, and just like that, the last of Uriel's grip on her resolve dissipated.

"So take it out on me." She blurted without a second thought. Michael stared.

"Take it out on...? Absolutely not!" They said, appalled. Uriel's heart sank.

"Why not?" She asked, absolutely not intending to sound as whiny as she did.

"Uriel, I'm not going to _hit you_ just to burn off stress!" Michael sighed. "Why ever would you suggest something so ridiculous?"

"Uh..." The other angel's cheeks began to heat again and she laughed nervously. "Mikey, that's not exactly what I meant." 

Michael processed this for a moment, a blank look on their face. "Then what _do_ you mean? Besides, venting to you is enough, isn't it?"

It certainly wasn't enough anymore. With a quick boost of celestial strength, Uriel picked the other up, got up from her seat, and sat them down on the edge of her desk.

"I mean," She said, trying desperately to keep her voice from wobbling. She rested a shaking hand on Michael's thigh. "You could always just _take_ me, you know, across your desk or mine, and...and have your way with me. Burn off your stress that way." Eye contact was near impossible at this point. Michael gaped.

"Uri..." They apprehensively tried to push her away, "Honey. If I were to have you now, I worry I might be too rough with you."

"That's the _point_, you silly angel," Uriel looked at Michael, desperation in her eyes.

Silence hung like fog in the air between them. Michael's fingertips came to rest on the other's jaw.

"You'll tell me if you want to stop, right?" They asked quietly.

"Yes, Michael, of course." Uriel was practically begging for it, begging for Michael to strip her and take her _now_, damn whatever else they had to attend to for the day. "_Please_."

And that was all it took for her wish to be granted.


End file.
